Few things in life are more delicious than, after a stressful day/week/month/year, drawing a hot bath, pouring a glass of seltzer water on ice, grabbing your Kindle (or other, inferior e-reader device), and settling in for a relaxing soak of the tub.
Until that relaxing soak turns deadly. Your across-the-tub caddy fails, dumping everything good in your life into the piping hot bath water. When this happens, you grab for the Kindle first, realizing after there probably was a risk of electrocution, but whatever.
Once on dry land, your Kindle will still be full of water. If your Kindle is under warranty, now is the time to play coroner and call the time of death. If it’s not under warranty, prepare for CPR.
Cry. Cry like a baby. Bawl your eyes out. You were already stressed to start out with, and now you have to deal with this. So let it all go. You’re not just crying over your water-logged literature; you’re crying over all the stuff you didn’t cry over earlier.
Pry. Pry off the back plastic piece of your Kindle very carefully, using something like the weird nail file/curvy thing that’s attached to your fingernail clippers. Be careful to not scratch the plastic to all hell because there’s a chance your Kindle will be alive after this trauma. And as with people who’ve been in traumatic, injurious accidents, doctors don’t want to make them any worse. Be a good doctor. Who are we kidding? Be a good nurse. Nurses do all the work anyway.
Rice. If the back of your Kindle is open, do not shove your device straight into the rice. You’ll gunk up the motherboard and other shiny things and wires in it. No, instead, get a flat baking dish or even a cookie sheet, and line that puppy with rice. Then, lay a thing piece of fabric over top of that — something cotton, or a very thin, non-terry towel. Your Kindle goes on that, motherboard down, for two days. Do not power on. Do not touch. Do not even look at. Your patient needs rest.
(If your Kindle is under warranty, you can shove the whole thing in a bag of rice, leaving the back on, to see if it’ll survive. A warranteed Kindle is a surgery-free Kindle.)
The odds are not good in this situation.
But, if you’re lucky, you won’t have to send Amazon hundreds of dollars for a replacement, and your Kindle will, like magic, turn on its home screen after a while and be like, “Hey, I’m alive. Read me.” And you can. And you will. I hope that’s how your story ends.
The Sound Life’s Kindle survived an attempted drowning with no cosmetic damage, but the Bathtub Warrior thinks a little slower than before. This humorous (I hope it is anyway) blog post is not intended to be sound advice on what to do in a situation in which an electronic device meets water. Water and electricity do not mix. Rescue your wet electronic devices at your own risk. Use good, solid judgment. And may the odds be ever in your favor, or something.